


Come Tomorrow, Will I Be Older

by roxymissrose



Category: Smallville
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-21
Updated: 2011-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 11:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxymissrose/pseuds/roxymissrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An exploration of alien Clark. A wee bit disturbing.</p><p>originally posted 4-15-2006</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Tomorrow, Will I Be Older

Clark woke, sat up abruptly and held his spinning head. He'd had the weirdest dream—it was already fading but it seemed to have something to do with Lex...

Ever since Lex had hit him with the car, he'd been getting weird--flashes, feelings. It kind of made sense--after all, his whole world turned inside out because of that crash.

He leaned back in bed and grimaced when his stomach made a horrible noise. Whoa! Boy, was he ever glad he wasn't in class! What a racket. He grinned and rubbed his achy middle.

 _Breakfast--mmmm and something smells so good down stairs_. Wonder what Mom's making...

He rushed through his morning routine, grabbed his jacket and books and sprinted down the stairs.

"Morning, sweetie!"

His mother kissed him on the cheek and he sniffed appreciatively--pancakes and Pavlova--that was Mom Smell. He grinned and dropped into the chair. His stomach rumbled loudly and he gasped--that had actually hurt! He bent forward into the edge of the table, feeling a little weak and shivery but Mom was right there, dropping a plate of pancakes in front of him, right out of the pan and wafting pleasant warmth into his face. Her arm brushed his face and he inhaled the scent of maple syrup, and something else, "Hey! Buckwheat pancakes! My favorite!"

"I know, I made tons," she laughed and it vibrated right through him in a wonderful way and he couldn't help but grin back, "Good, because I have the feeling I can eat tons!"

He dug in, and it was hard to hold in the little sounds of pleasure. Boy, they were so good, so delicious! He knew he was moaning but he just couldn't stop and Mom chuckled as she watched him shovel in heaping forkfuls of pancakes and eggs and sausage and smiled.

She really liked watching people eat.

He strolled out onto the porch, licking sticky fingers and feeling wonderfully full. He didn't think he'd ever fill that hole in his belly, but now he felt warm and a little sleepy. He smiled and chased the delicious taste from his fingers as he strolled out to the road. It wasn't long before the bus rolled up, and he climbed on and sat next to Chloe.

"Clark! You look like the cat that swallowed the canary! Here, you've got something on your face." She wiped at his lip a few times digging her thumb into the corner of his mouth, and he felt a little flare in his gut. It surprised him. He usually only felt like that if Lana dropped something but...mmm. Nice.

He smiled warmly at her and she smiled back with slightly raised eyebrows. _Cute_. Her lips were a luscious, glossy cotton candy pink, and she smelled sweet as sugar. Why did he not notice before today?

She glanced at her thumb. "Did you cut yourself this morning?"

"Hunh? No." Puzzled, he looked too...what the heck? "It's jam, Chloe." Jam, strawberry. Sweet. His stomach groaned and he winced. Hungry again.

Inside the school, he actually forgot what was bothering him because Lana did drop something and bent to pick it up.

Zing.

Aaand there he was, the boyfriend. Clark looked away quickly but not quick enough. He caught Whitney glaring at him but today, instead of looking down, looking away--today, he glared back. Bring it, you asshole. I'm in the mood today--his stomach growled.

As he pretty much expected, Whitney cornered him in the bathroom halfway through the day and pushed him against the wall. Clark let himself be pushed because--why not?  
Whitney didn't know it yet, but there was a new world order and guess what--Clark had come out on top. He grinned when Whitney grabbed his collar, shook him hard. His cheeks were red, blushed with color like a peach. He was snarling something about his fucking girlfriend and then--punched him in the stomach. The punch shocked him, shook him and then--it made him hungry, unbelievably, suddenly, _hungry_.

Clark gagged, he had to get away, get something to eat. Eat now. He panted, the pain bending him forward and then oddly, the hunger pangs sank slowly lower. It felt like a solid mass crawling deeper and deeper into his crotch and filling it. Beads of sweat popped out on his lip and he felt hot, tingly, like he could float if he let go.

He liked it. Very much.

When Whit leaned in to yell at him again, he smelled oranges, and soap and some other kind of fruity scent that must have been shampoo and a warm, earthy, musky smell....

He closed his eyes and sucked in the scent. It made him sigh with pleasure, was it wrong to think that Whitney smelled...well...yummy?

Whitney picked up on the distinct change in Clark's attitude and said, "What the fuck are you--"

He launched himself off the wall and latched onto Whitney's mouth and Whit made this weird whining noise and his mouth opened under Clark's. It was warm and wet, and tasted a little like peppermint, a little like the sea and like copper. He groaned and gave himself up to it, drinking it in. His hands circled Whitney's waist, so warm and hard and soft too....

Whitney didn't move away or fight back; he just sort of melted all over him. Clark shuddered, and all rational thought sizzled away like butter in a hot pan.

After, he had to leave school. He felt odd--he didn't want to stay and try and explain. He licked his lips, they tingled. He touched his fingertips to them and they felt hot, swollen, his jaw ached a bit...what exactly had happened? Even his teeth felt sore.

He bounced along, caught up in the feeling. Hey, he might be a little fuzzy on the details, but he knew it had been good. He felt like he was floating. He might be a little confused but he was awfully happy too. He needed to share this with someone and of course his thoughts turned to Lex.

Lex would probably know how to explain this new feeling. Lex was amazing and smart and sleek and smooth...he fed Clark's desire for new and different and...Lex.

He was in the castle before he knew it. He didn't even remember running there—and now he was on the stairs to the study--how in the world did that happen? He smiled and said, "Lex." He said it again, just to feel it in his mouth.

"Lex."

He closed his eyes and shivered. Saying it was like tasting chocolate. _I bet Lex tastes like chocolate--dark bittersweet--not the chocolate you give to little kids._ His lips were wet, he wiped them on his sleeve and the next moment found him bouncing into Lex's study.

Lex's heartbeat was tickling his ears and his smell was tickling his nose so he laughed, giddy and happy, and Lex's huge startled eyes made him giggle again.

"Clark? Where did you come from? I didn't hear you." Lex smiled as he said it, so Clark knew he didn't mind.

"You know what? I ran here all the way from school and I did it in under five minutes. I can do that. And you hit me with your car and-- and...I'm super strong and--"His stomach emitted a ridiculously loud rumble and Clark blushed hard. "And right now, super hungry," he trailed off with an apologetic smile.

Lex had looked a little worried at first, but at the growl, he smiled and the skin around his eyes crinkled. "Super hungry, hunh?"

Clark's stomach nearly roared. Clark blushed darker and Lex's nose wrinkled, he was smiling so hard.

He had to kiss that wrinkle, that nose--it was so cute--so he did and then he licked it because Lex tasted so good.

Lex looked shocked for a moment and then he smiled, the sweetest smile yet, and blushed the color of cream over strawberries. "Clark..."

Clark threw all caution to the winds. He groaned, "Lex. I need to taste you. Please."

He reached out and clasped his head between his hands and Lex's lips parted, to protest, to breathe...Clark didn't know and didn't care, he covered Lex's mouth with his own, opened his lips with his tongue and tasted...heaven. His body was flooded with taste, smell--that same musky heady scent shot through with bittersweet chocolate and sea breeze and earth, cotton and sun--he needed to taste every part of Lex, to explore....

He took the shaky groan that stroked his ears and set him on fire as permission and sank to his knees. The scent was so strong here it made him weak, made his insides loose and hot and he ripped through the cloth--he had to have more now. Right now.

Clark was drowning in the most intense sensations he'd ever felt. His fingers were encased in heat, fragrant heat. It clung to his flesh, pressed and slid over him like hot wet velvet, every move of his hand brought more contact, more heat, more wet, just--more. He groaned, sucked and licked and nibbled. Lex shook, he quivered, he was beyond moaning, beyond screaming. Just--silent, trembling to each stroke of Clark's fingers, his tongue, his teeth....

He slowly became aware they were in the cellar, lying in front of the little ship that dropped him here. He must have run here with Lex, he remembered feeling he had to share everything with him, right away. He remembered the urgent need, like a wild fever burning inside him.

Lex was still under him, still so very hot, and Clark smiled. Every part of him was thrumming with joy--he was stuffed, full, sated. For the first time that day, he felt truly content. He'd found what he'd been searching for and he didn't even know he'd been looking for it. He sighed and curled a little more comfortably around Lex. Everything was just like it should be, he had Lex to keep him warm and Dad too, wrapped up safely and right here with him, waiting patiently for him to wake up....

From under his lashes he could see the ship Dad had shown him a few days before. What light there was made his ship gleam. He smiled happily. Something about the shape and color reminded him of a chrysalis and the thought was relaxing. Clark felt as though it was soothing him, singing to him. He lay still, letting the warmth flow over him, feeling his heart slow to a peaceful rhythm, feeling his pulse settling, slowing down and resting. He yawned and licked sticky lips, chuckling sleepily as his skin pulled where it was stuck to bits of Lex.  
He was really, really tired.

After a while, he didn't feel the blood under him cool and thicken, he didn't feel the prick of splintered bones, the slight chill as the sun set and the air in the storm cellar gave up its heat. He didn't feel the pores that opened all over his body, or the slick, gel-like fluid they exuded well up and cover him, coat him until he shone and then solidify, until he was as smooth and hard as jade.

It was quieter than the grave in the cellar. Under the red bed of bones lay a long bundle of silk, thick and heavy.

Waiting for Clark to wake up.

4-15-2006

* * *

  



End file.
